Bad
by saxgirl42
Summary: Why exactly did Arwen come to Frodo's aid during the Flight to the Ford, instead of Lord Glorfindel?


_**Author's Note:**__ I promised my good friend Stephanie a Lord of the Rings fic, and today we were watching some clips from the movies and this popped into my head. It's what was NOT shown in "Fellowship," and it answers the question of why Arwen comes to Frodo's aid instead of Glorfindel._

_So Steph, this is for you! -hug-_

_Now before people freak out, I personally like Arwen, and I absolutely adore the films. This is not meant to bash the character or Peter Jackson's adaptations in any way, shape, or form. It was just a fun little story I felt like jotting down._

_My first Lord of the Rings fic! Wow. I've been insanely following this fandom for about six years now and haven't written anything. Shocker! So here it is, my Lord of the Rings debut! I hope you enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:**__ All characters belong to the incredible Mr. Tolkien. All I own are the DVDs, a couple books, and some posters._

XxX

Arwen felt bad.

Not the kind of bad one feels when one is ill, or injured, or otherwise incapacitated. And not the kind of bad one feels when one is sad, or angry, or feeling some other unpleasant emotion.

No, Arwen felt bad in the way one feels when one has accomplished something so greatly evil and yet so unimaginably absurd, that one feels the need to shout it to all the beings in the world.

So she did.

Her cries of glee could be heard throughout the entire Bruinen river gorge as she fled Rivendell, deep in the cover of night. She was carried by the beautiful white horse, Asfaloth, who in reality did not belong to her and was part of why she felt bad.

It had all started when she heard of the young hobbit's quest.

Her father had been discussing it with Lord Glorfindel earlier that day, and they had at last come to the decision that someone must ride out and find the hobbit. Gandalf the Grey was supposed to have been with him, but no news had come to Rivendell from the wizard and Elrond feared the worst for the hobbit.

"Danger lies on the road ahead of him," Elrond had said, talking in hushed tones with Glorfindel in his private chambers. Arwen was listening in from below the window, having been curious about the hastily called meeting. "The Nine have been riding abroad as of late. I fear for the hobbit's safety."

"Especially without Gandalf to guide him," Glorfindel had said, his soft voice worried. There had been a moment of silence, then, before the golden-haired Elf finally announced, "I will find him."

Elrond had then wished the great Elf Lord good luck and they had parted.

_Lord Glorfindel gets to do all the fun things_, Arwen thought, leaning dejectedly against the wall of her home. _He gets to fight in wars, win battles, and have his name remembered for all time. It's not fair!_

And it was then that she came up with her diabolical plan to have _her_ name remembered. She would be more than just the daughter of Elrond and future wife of the rightful king of Gondor. She would save the day and help the little hobbit!

Before she had really thought it through all the way, she found herself hiding near the doorway, waiting for Glorfindel to come into the courtyard.

The golden-haired Elf Lord appeared mere moments later, and Arwen leapt at the chance – literally. She soared through the air and tackled Glorfindel, then unsheathed his own sword and slammed the hilt into his temple while he was still startled.

Arwen stared at the unconscious Elf for a moment, still holding his sword, then glanced worriedly up at her father's now-darkened window just to make sure he had not noticed the brief scuffle. Satisfied that her actions remained secret, she rose and started to drag Glorfindel toward the stables.

This feat was harder than she had thought it would be, as he was in full armor, and she was sweating by the time she reached the stables. Then she swiftly bound his arms and legs with strong rope and left him in an unused stall.

_There_, she thought, wiping her hands.

Glorfindel's magnificent steed, Asfaloth, watched her the whole time, wide brown eyes deeply curious. Arwen approached him cautiously, whispering comforting words under her breath. The horse stomped his hoof and huffed with displeasure, probably inquiring in his own horse-like way why his master had been unceremoniously hit over the head, hog-tied, and stuffed into a nearby stall. Arwen ignored the question and threw a saddle and reins onto him, but she hesitated before she mounted, finally thinking things over.

She had just attacked a highly respected Elf Lord. Now she was about to steal his horse. And then she was going to ride out and face danger and maybe death to help a man who most likely came up to her waist.

Arwen paused in her thoughts, staring at Asfaloth silently, then let her gaze drift down to her beautiful violet gown.

She would need to change clothes.

She rushed out of the stables and into the dimming light of the courtyard, praying her father would not notice her presence. It took her only a few minutes to change into riding clothes and pull her dark hair out of her face, then she raced back into the stables. Everything was the way she had left it, from the senseless Elf in the corner to the nervous white horse awaiting her.

Arwen thought things through again, deciding it would be a bad idea to rush such an important adventure.

Attacked an Elf Lord. Stealing a horse. Facing danger. Little man.

She would need a sword.

Arwen snapped her gloved fingers and stooped to retrieve Glorfindel's sword and sheath, which she had returned after knocking him out.

She reviewed again (attack, theft, danger, etc.) and finally decided she was ready to go.

By the time she had mounted Asfaloth and finally persuaded him to leave Glorfindel behind, darkness had fallen and their voyage out of Rivendell was entirely secret.

XxX

So yes, Arwen felt bad. She felt downright naughty, wicked, mischievous, and all those other great synonyms.

But she got to play the warrior princess and save the little hobbit from almost certain death.

And because no _real_ harm came out of it (besides a wounded pride and a rather impressive black and purple bruise) Glorfindel, like the Great Elf Lord he is, got over it… eventually.

XxX

_Comments are love! Thanks for reading!_


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